


Where I Am Meant to Be

by DreamedWordsDreamed



Series: A Playlist We Call Love [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Determined Family, Engineer Hunk, Genderqueer Pidge, Genius Pidge, Go The Distance, Lonely Keith, M/M, Military Cover Up, Other, Pilot Lance, Reaching for the stars, Songfic, lost shiro, mechanic keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28952460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamedWordsDreamed/pseuds/DreamedWordsDreamed
Summary: This is where I am meant to be.I think I’ll try defying gravity.Keith Kogane looked up at the sky every night, searching the skies for something, anything, that he could reach.And one day, he reached out.And something reached back.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: A Playlist We Call Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047154
Kudos: 4





	Where I Am Meant to Be

The New Mexico night above Keith Kogane was the velvet black of the deepest caves and the fur of midnight predators, and it hunted the pinpricks of light that escaped its clutches. It was the night of the new moon, and it further emphasized the darkness between the stars above him. It was a cool night, with a light breeze stirring the dry and dusty earth at his feet. It had crunched beneath his boots when he’d walked away from his hover bike, the orange clay of it dying the white soles instantly bloody. As he did every night, just before he walked into his little studio room, he paused, and stared up into the sky above him. 

That sky that he desperately wanted to dive into.

That sky that had swallowed his mother. And his brother. 

But the earth had swallowed his father, so there wasn’t much use in laying blame. 

But now...he wasn’t sure he’d be able to reach it at all. 

His day had begun like most others, biking to a dawn shift at the Garrison’s mech bay half asleep and grouchy, but settling resentfully into wakefulness over an engine and a hot cup of coffee. Everything had been going fine, really! No one had spoken to him, so he hadn’t had the opportunity to misspeak, and he hadn’t moved from the engine, so he hadn’t gotten in someone’s way. But, it seemed that wasn’t enough. 

The Garrison commander had swept in for a surprise inspection, boots shining and derisive scowl firmly fixed on his face. Commander Iverson was a stubborn, but decent manager most days, if a stickler for following the letter rather than the spirit of the law, and Keith hadn’t expected anything outside those usual behaviors. 

He’d stood up straight and saluted when the commander had entered the hanger, and then resumed work on the engine. That was absolutely normal. 

“Kogane!” Iverson shouted, his deep voice echoing in the hanger, and startling Keith. His hands jerked, and the delicate fixture he’d been removing snapped, and promptly fell into the open carburetor. Keith cursed under his breath, and gritted his teeth as he straightened to find Iverson standing before him. “Mechanic Kogane, are you aware of the Kerberos Mission?” His voice was echoing in the hanger, and the other mechanics were staring. 

What the fuck kind of question was that? Of course he knew what the Kerberos Mission was. His brother had been on it, along with Pidge Holt’s brother and father. They’d made it to the icy Pluto moon only to have some “malfunction” according to the record. It was bullshit of course. He and Pidge had personally designed that craft, piloted it a thousand times in testing, and had multiple fail safes. They’d been attacked. That was the only explanation. Something took them. 

When they’d gone to command with that, the bastards had demoted them both. That had been two years ago. 

Keith swallowed his seething fury, and calmly replied, “Yes, sir.”

Iverson squinted at him, and pulled in a deep breath through his nose. “New information had come forward in the investigation of the Kerberos Mission’s demise, and I need you and Mechanic Holt to come to my office. Immediately,” the man was making himself into a veritable wall of authority with his tone, his eyes fixed on Keith’s. His hands were clenched tightly behind his back. 

Keith nodded, and replied, “Yes sir, I’ll find them and report to your office immediately.”

Iverson nodded sharply, turned on his heel, and strode out of the hanger with a look of determination in every line of his body. As his foot falls echoed off the cement floor, Keith seized his coffee mug and turned to find Pidge. 

The small mechanical genius was hunched in their office, programming some kind of mini satellite dish, large headphones hanging around their neck as they tapped hurriedly into a data pad. Keith knocked on the door frame when he reached the cramped little space, scanning the disaster zone Pidge called “work space”. They had every available inch of wall space stacked with shelving, which was in turn stacked with every snarl of wire, pile of scrap, and unnamable project imaginable. They made nearly all their inventions from scratch with these items, but it didn’t make it any easier to look at. 

Pidge’s unruly brown hair was yanked into a messy top knot, their owlish round glasses currently perched within the nest of their hair. Large emerald green eyes were fixed on their data pad, one hand typing while the other toyed with some wiring on the dish. They looked tired, and irritated, but that was hardly unusual. 

“Hey Pidge,” Keith called out, leaning his shoulder on the door frame, “Iverson wants us upstairs.”

“What does that asshole want now? Can’t you see I’m busy?” They growled, not bothering to glance up at him. 

“He says it’s about Kerberos.” 

And that was all it took. 

Pidge dropped the data pad into a messenger bag, and was halfway around the desk before Keith had even straightened up from the door frame. “Hurry up then,” was all they quipped before shutting the door behind them both and locking it. 

Pidge barely reached his shoulder, but it only took meeting the diminutive engineer once to know that they could run circles tangent to the radius of whatever sad little oval you operated in. Genius was an understatement for Pidge Holt. 

They walked quickly towards the administrative wing from there, leaving the comforting sounds of machinery whirring behind for the cool, quiet halls of administration. The hush was broken only by the burble of water coolers, the hum of a printer, and the occasional muffled voice behind a closed and curtained door. The cool gray walls were featureless and bleak, broken only by sharp black doors with tiny frosted windows in them. Keith couldn’t imagine working in such a dull and miserable place. He sipped his coffee as they walked, and noticed Pidge held a thermal mug, likely of the same caffeinated beverage. They were rarely seen without the drink these days. 

Iverson’s door lay at the end of the hall, a small gold name plate beside the door the only indication of his stature. Pidge rapped on the door impatiently, already on edge from the sudden summons. Keith tried to breathe deeply, but was interrupted by the door springing open. As the dark door recessed into its wall pocket, it revealed the faces of two other base personnel. A tall thin man who Keith thought was a pilot, and Pidge’s friend Hunk, another engineer on base. They were seated in two of four chairs arrayed in front of Iverson’s large (and very clean) desk, looking nervous. Pidge raised an eyebrow, but then shrugged and sat beside Hunk, leaving Keith the chair on the end. 

He sat, and the door hissed shut behind them all. Iverson looked stressed, and a little...something. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t fear either. Somewhere between the two?

The older man leaned his elbows on his desk, and linked his fingers together before his chin, his eyes flickering with determination. “You’re probably all wondering why I’ve brought you here,” he began, only to be cut off by the tall pilot.

“Cut the crap Iverson, we know this is about Kerberos. Just get it out already,” His voice was a clear tenor, and lilted with just the edge of a Cuban accent. His caramel brown face was tight with irritation, and sea blue eyes were narrowed in challenge. His long arms were crossed, as were his legs, as if he would twist himself into a pretzel if he could. 

“Lance!” objected Hunk, putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. 

Iverson scowled, and growled, “Watch it, McClain. You can still be court marshaled as long as you work here.” His fingers squeezed momentarily before he took a breath, and continued, “This is about the Kerberos mission. You were all involved in the planning of that operation, and several of you have a familial connection to it. Recently some...evidence has come to light, that I feel it responsible to inform you of.” 

Keith stiffened in his chair, his grip on his half empty mug going white knuckled. What could they possibly have learned?

“When we lost contact with the Kerberos Mission two years ago, we labeled the incident as a malfunction, as all of you know. Since then, each of you has come forward at least once to contest this label.” Keith’s eyebrows rose in surprise, he hadn’t thought anyone besides Pidge had questioned the findings. He risked a glance at the group to see similar expressions on all their faces, each looking both relieved and troubled in turn. “As such, we had to ensure that you all did not go public with these theories. Alien theories without substantial evidence would prove only to spread fear in the populace, and we’d have a mass panic on our hands.” He swallowed here, his hands going taught once more. “However...exactly 6 hours ago we received a communication,” he closed his eyes, and he bowed his head for a moment, seeming to steel himself against the coming words, “from Officer Takashi Shirogane, pilot of the Kerberos Mission.”

Keith dropped his coffee cup. 


End file.
